Walk the Line
by Luthien.Whitlock
Summary: How would you cope with the knowledge that you are stuck in a world you would never have chosen for yourself, just because someone was too stupid to look past his own opinion?" What would happen if Edward never returned?
1. Chapter 1

**I do not own anything of the brilliant Twilight universe. I am forever indebted to Stephenie Meyer for her brilliant fiction and for letting me play with her characters!**

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If every choice was the wrong one... what would you do?

If you had one second to decide for the rest of your life, what would it be?

Darkness or light?

Color or blackness?

And what if this crucial decision, the one to live or die, the one it all depended on, was taken away from you?

How would you cope with the knowledge that you are stuck in a world you would never have chosen for yourself, just because someone was too stupid to look past his own opinion?

It had been two years since Edward left. Since he had turned on his heel and walked away from what he had once proclaimed to be his only love, his one in a million, his mate, his future. Since I had been forced to learn the hard way that it's never good to love unconditionally. That to love meant to make yourself vulnerable – possibly more than any other time.

My two years had been vague, to say the least. I functioned. I ate, drank, did the housework. I went to school, worked, hung out with my friends. I hooked up with Jacob every now and then, just for something to do. For some resemblance of the old feeling. Luckily, we were both aware of the fact that it would never be because once he imprinted, he'd be gone for good. Claimed by some other girl, though he preferred to look at it the other way round. Either way, it meant that we could act on our mutual love without feeling obliged to one another. I liked that. To be honest, it was all I could deal with.

I graduated with honors. I had applied to several colleges, and gotten accepted by a fair share of them. However, I could never quite find my peace. Even when I went off to Quebec for my undergrad studies in American literature, I could never quite stop looking over my shoulder for the ghosts of my past.

And ghosts there were. Sure, I was quite the average college girl. On the outside, at least. I had always been good at keeping up appearances. Maybe that had been why I ended up earning the Cullen's trust in the first place. You never know.

While in Quebec, I mostly hung out with some girls I'd met during my lit classes. Fun girls, not quite as chatty as Jessica, who had moved to Florida with Mike, but exactly what I needed. They never asked many questions. They accepted me for who I was. For how I was. And there's no need pretending I'm not royally messed up...

My roommate was Becca. She and I wound up registering for the same classes in our freshmen year, and we instantly took a liking to each other. Becca was quite the athletic type, not that she'd ever try to persuade me to join her on any of her sports. It was just her thing, like mine was to mope for hours, to write diaries full of idiotic memories and somehow try to keep coping.

I'd never told Becca much about my past. Sure, she knew the general story – that I'd once lived in Phoenix, that I'd left so that my mom could travel with her new husband, that I'd graduated Forks High School and that I had suffered a bad breakup my senior year. She had never questioned this story, never requested to see any pictures or anything. That would have been pretty pathetic, too. I did not have any graphic reminders of my time with Edward, of what had once been the happiest time of my life. Of the time when I'd thought that I was reaching for eternity, that I was actually getting a chance at family, at love, at siblings. At whatever else the Cullens symbolized for me back then.

I had started drawing shortly after graduation. What had once been doodling while talking on the phone suddenly became that much more. Even though I was never going to be a real artist, I had started to substitute for the missing photographs with pencil and charcoal sketches. They were probably really terrible, but that didn't matter to me. I could immerse myself in my memories and draw everyone just as I had seen them so long ago. When I had finally finished the last line on Edward's perfect face, the last of the Cullens that I was drawing – I had started with Rosalie, for it didn't really matter to me whether or not that sketch turned out fine – I threw away my charcoal and started writing in my diary.

The first diary is more of a picture book, actually. It contains all the sketches, along with some little anecdotes that I cannot bear to ever forget. It's not often that I dig into my old cardboard box and bring it out to look at. Sometimes there's time to remember, but more often it's time to move on.

So move on I did. By the time I started my sophomore year, I felt as at home in college as I had in Forks. I had my share of friends in my dorm building, we hung out frequently to party, to get drunk, to just have fun. Many of them were guys, and most of them tried to get into my pants. However, I'd rebuke every one of them. There just wasn't that much of a spark there. There had never been that much of a spark, not even with Jacob, but with him it had been different. Hooking up had been about healing, about getting used to normal (or at least, closer to normal) skin temperature and not feeling as unloved and abandoned as I had felt after Edward's departure. Now I had gotten used to feeling unloved, and I had gotten over feeling abandoned. I had friends, at least in a manner of speaking. I had a future that I was working for. I was going to be an editor at some major publishing house. My dream was to find and support the next generation's _Wuthering Heights_. Maybe, someday, I would.

Tonight was just another party. It was a Friday night, and I could always trust my roommate to find the best location for the night. We went over to Carmen's dorm to watch some movies and have a couple of drinks first before walking out into the second floor hallway and get mixed up with the rest of the people there. Sounded like a plan to me – it was my usual Friday night routine, so to speak.

The movie we watched actually asked some restraint. It wasn't that I didn't like Bram Stoker's _Dracula_, I had studied his novel with unique intensity. It was just that I was absolutely forbidden to make one wrong comment on Gary Oldman's performance or the story line. I still felt obliged to the promise I had given Edward so many years ago, that I would never tell anyone. Stupid morals...

After the movie, we started on Cuervo. I liked that kind of booze. It was hard and quick, yet at the same time oddly comforting. After finishing an entire bottle between the three of us, we stumbled out into the hallway to the main party commotion. The music was blasting, people were chatting and dancing and making out in the corners. Becca and Carmen both excused themselves for some snacks and left me standing by myself. I looked around at all the people I knew and yet didn't know. I thought I saw Reg, who I had made out with at some previous party, but I couldn't be sure for he disappeared in the crowd and I wasn't going to look for him. Cuervo had made me calm and content, so I figured I'd just continue to watch everybody having fun. Some crap magazine had claimed not so long ago that with the right attitude, it could be enjoyable to watch people enjoy themselves. Well, no night like the present to find out!

I kept watching the people until the crowd thinned and I spotted Becca and Carmen in a far away corner, talking to three guys. From what I could tell, one of them was tall and muscled, a perfect athlete, with untamed golden hair. The other was shorter and had nondescript pale-brown hair which he wore tied back into a ponytail. The third one wasn't as engrossed in the conversation as the others. He was tall and sporty as well, in fact, he looked very much like the first guy who was currently deeply engrossed in conversation with Becca. While I was still trying to make my buzzed eyes focus on their faces in order to be sure how I knew these guys, I suddenly felt myself captivated by the third guy's stare.

Golden-brown eyes held mine for what seemed like an eternity. I couldn't look away. I was completely mesmerized, and amazed by the power of his gaze.

My last thought was whether or not I had had too much Cuervo and was finally hallucinating. Then everything went black as I fainted.

**A/N: This is my first try at writing non-canon Twilight fan fiction. I have really grown quite fond of Team Jasper, and I'm hoping I'll do it justice. Please let me know what you guys think!**


	2. Chapter 2

**I do not own anything from the Twilight universe. My gratitude goes to Stephenie Meyer for creating this perfect world for me to play with and enjoy.**

~ The morning after ~

"Ouch."

I believe this was the first coherent word to leave my mouth in more than ten hours. Bright sunlight was blinding me. My head felt like it had been hit with a jackhammer. My stomach twisted as soon as I lifted my head. The one thing I do not enjoy about the nights out with the girls is the hangover on the day afterwards. This was all I could think about before I jumped out of bed and ran toward the bathroom where I was violently sick.

Somebody was suddenly beside me, holding my hair back from my face and patting my back soothingly. When it was over, I collapsed next to the toilet. Becca was looking at me worriedly as she handed me my toothbrush and a glass of water. I weakly shook my head. There was no way for either of those just now. What I needed was a strong cup of coffee, as well as a whole bottle of aspirin.

Of course, my roommate knew my hangover routine. Though I will never figure out how she never got sick the morning after partying, I will never complain either. Sure, it sucks to be sick and to throw up like a crazy person after every sip of water, but can you imagine how much worse it'd be if it wasn't just me, but the both of us?

Becca had already scrambled some eggs and mixed a Virgin Mary for me by the time I finally emerged from the bathroom where I had fought off another wave of nausea with a long shower. Grateful for all her effort, I sat down across from her and started nibbling my eggs. This was usually when we would talk about the night before, for it was an unwritten rule that at least one of us was missing some chunks of it. Today, I felt odd, like I could remember the party up until the very end. I was positive nothing extraordinary had happened. In spite of all the Tequila I'd drunk, I had not enjoyed myself, no matter what I had tried. So my night had pretty much been spent moping and wallowing in the corner, watching the rest of the people have fun. I even remembered people beginning to leave when it got really late – that hadn't happened to me in quite a few months. Normally I was among the first half to leave the party with a hot guy to make out in either one of our dorms. Last night, no guy had as much as caught my eye. That was until...

"Becca?"

I suddenly sat up straight and fought to focus. My roommate stopped sipping her Virgin Mary and looked at me curiously. "Yeah?", she asked.

_How do I ask this? It's going to sound so stupid... _

"Becca, do you remember... by any chance... did you hook up with any cute guys last night?"

Becca looked at me like I was crazy. "Bella, you were so out of it... we had no idea what happened. One second you were standing there watching everybody, then suddenly you were staring at Jazz, that's who we were talking to, and your eyes rolled back and you hit the floor. I was so scared! Then, before I even realized he had moved at all, Jazz was back in our corner carrying you in his arms like you were a toy! I swear I must have had way too much to drink as well, for this all sounds so crazy now. Even though we hadn't exactly talked to Jazz and I've never seen him before, he knew right away who you were, what had happened and where we lived. He said he'd take you outside for some air and stuff, and when I followed, you guys were just – _gone_. I know how crazy this sounds, and Carmen swears we probably mixed up the time and hung out longer with Peter and Jamie, but still..."

Becca was rambling by the time I held up my hand.

"Hun, thanks, I just... I think I really need a cup of coffee. I'm still not able to process this. The guys you talked with... I remember seeing them... their names were Jamie, Peter and Jasper... Jazz, I mean, you said?"

Damn, I had almost slipped and revealed that I knew so much more about them than she did!

For by the time she had mentioned his name, I was positive that I had not been hallucinating last night. I had really seen those amazingly gorgeous golden-brown-ish eyes which I had been positive I was never going to see again, no matter how hard I wished for it. The eyes that had starred in my dreams for six months, then in my nightmares ever since.

As much as I had always hoped I'd see him again, _them_, any one of the Cullens, of my surrogate family who was forced away from me by my ex-boyfriend's stupidity so long ago, I had never realized that I had also been dreading the day, were it ever to come.

Had they moved on in every aspect? Had _he_ gotten himself another human toy plaything to cherish and protect for six months, then dump afterwards? Was _he_ going to show up in one of my classes the next day, pretend to be happy? Was _he_ coming back to me?

This was the point about which I needed to make up my mind. Did I want him to come back? Hadn't he done enough damage for a lifetime, hell, for ten? Were he standing in front of me right now, would I take him back and accept his apologies?

Again, I was faced with the decision I had already had to make some years earlier.

_If every choice was wrong, what would you do?_

Completely lost in thought, I had made my way to the coffee cart by the library and ordered a huge caramel latte to go. As the barista poured the caramel syrup onto the cream topping, I felt an odd sense of flashback. The syrup was the exact color of their eyes when they had just been out hunting. Last night's eyes had been darker, more like the cinnamon syrup that was next to the vanilla on the coffee cart. Obviously, being so close to all those humans must have been really hard for him. _Them._ Were there others?

Slowly sipping my coffee, I wandered back to the dorm.

"Oh my god, did you _really_ take him home with you!? Carmen!!! You have to tell me _everything_, all the juicy details. No, no, come over, now! Bella's just got back in and I'm sure she's dying to hear your story as well..." Becca winked at me apologetically, as if to say, _hey girl, you missed out last night, at least relive the night through one of our stories!_, before continuing her conversation.

"Of course, silly girl! We're ordering pizza, how does that sound? … Fab. See you in a few, and hurry over!"

With a huge grin on her face, she threw the cellphone down on the couch.

"Alright, Bells?" She was looking at me expectantly, so I nodded and forced a smile. In truth, I was still incredibly bewildered by the sudden appearance of once-to-be brother-in-law. However, maybe Carmen and Becca together could help me figure out what he was doing here and who he was with.

We ordered pizza and fixed some more Virgin Marys. If Becca and I were hungover, Carmen would probably appreciate the thought as well. By the time Carmen got to our place, we had already arranged the squashy armchairs around the coffee table and put on some music in the background. Country rock. Normally I didn't do country rock, however, I felt an inexplicable affection for anything South-Western at the moment. The pizza arrived shortly afterwards and after we had all settled comfortably and finished the first slice, the girls started talking. It turned out that Carmen had indeed taken Peter back to her place where they had hooked up. This morning, though, by the time she was finally able to open her eyes and focus, he had left. No number, no note, no nothing. Carmen was beyond disappointed.

"And he was just – gone! I thought for sure we had potential. He must have been so nervous, though, poor thing," she chuckled. "I have never met a guy whose hands were always so cold. I thought that was just a girl thing! But him...? Worse than you, Bella, I swear!"

She raised her Virgin Mary to toast me, and I choked on my pizza.

_Oh, Carmen, if only you knew... _

It turned out the girls hadn't really talked to "Jazz" that much. Peter had introduced him as his cousin, and while Becca had had eyes only for Jamie, Jazz had politely stayed out of their blatant flirting. He was from Texas, that much the girls remembered, and he was staying with his cousin in some small holiday cabin near Beaver Pond in Maine. Jamie was a friend of Peter's and had agreed to join the two of them on last night's outing. The girls thought the guys were crazy for driving two hours just to go to a college party, but they had had so much fun that they weren't going to complain. Apparently, the guys were all incredibly good looking. They had an amazing sense of humor and the girls were more than disappointed that they hadn't gotten their numbers.

"However...", Becca reminisced, "Jamie did say that they were going to be in the area for several days because they were considering moving closer to the city and perhaps enrolling in classes here, too..."

I held my breath as she said that and actually contemplated flight.

_They can't be coming back, _he_ can't be coming back, he swore he'd never see me again, why now, why me, what have I done to deserve this..._

"Oh, yeah", Carmen suddenly divulged another piece of information, "Peter did say that he and Jazz had lost their families in a horrible accident some months ago. That they were looking for a place which held no memories of their loved ones whatsoever."

Becca looked impressed, and I took a deep breath. This was my chance to find out as much as I could about the reason for their return into my life.

"What... what did you say?", I asked tentatively. Carmen blushed, though, so I figured the conversation hadn't turned seriously.

"I suggested that he make new memories of new loved ones in order to move on. You know how blunt I get when I'm buzzed! And he said... he said he'd hold me to that and that the loss had been so much harder on Jazzy. He said that while he'd lost his aunt, uncle and cousins, Jazz had lost his entire family. We didn't exactly talk that much more after this, at least not coherently, but yeah... that's basically it, I guess..."

My head was spinning. Jasper had lost his entire family? The Cullens were... gone? Were they? Had they faked it? Split up? What had happened?

And what if they were really gone? Edward ripped to shreds and burned? I gasped, expecting the horrible pain that used to rip me apart whenever I thought of him gone forever. To my surprise, I found that I could still breathe normally. Maybe I was more over this than I had thought?

I pushed these thoughts to the back of my mind as I finished my pizza and partook in the conversation as good as I could. Thankfully, nobody doubted me when I said I was not feeling well because of the hangover and went to lie down. Then, lying face down on my bed, I tried to pull Edward's face from my memories. It was no longer the perfect photograph I expected it to be. It was fuzzy, faded, scratched, like an old slide. His face no longer clung to the forefront of my mind. As I focused on those golden-brown eyes I had loved so much, the features changed. His unruly bronze hair turned into a bright golden mane, his whole body became leaner and tauter. Refocusing, I realized that I was now looking at Jasper whose picture was as perfect as ever. The world's best predator. Calm, alert, seductive. I turned to lie on my back.

One thing I hadn't asked more details about, and that was how Jasper had carried me back to my place. I was going to take Becca's word on that – what she had described had sounded crazy, no doubt, but for someone with my knowledge it was absolutely clear that there was no other explanation because it was exactly what had happened. When I realized that this meant Jasper must have been in my room to put me to bed, I jumped up and started looking around for traces. I was well aware of the fact that vampires never _accidentally _left traces, but I couldn't help looking.

_What if he wants to see me again and left a trace for me to find?_

**A/N: Thanks to everyone for their wonderful reviews! I hope you enjoy where this story is going so far. Drop me a line with your opinion, I cherish them all!**

**I have a plan for the next few chapters, but I'll ask your opinion on the trace thing. Do you want Jasper to have left something for Bella? Should she find it? **

**Please let me know what you think!**


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